At 9:00 sharp I called my doctor’s office… and found out that my doctor is in surgery all day. (I should have known this; Monday is her day in the OR–and the day I had my surgery–and yesterday was a holiday.) The chirpy woman on the phone assured me, as my voice rose in pitch and leaked desperation across the phone line, that she would give my message to “someone.” Yes, someone.
In the meantime, late last night I experienced the joy of my first hot flash. It was… sweaty. And this morning I have an inexplicable desire to kill kill kill but lucky for my children, this overriding feeling of being hung over (no, I have not been drinking) will render me too slow and crabby to act on it.
“This just in on Newscenter 5… we are receiving reports of a woman in a small New Hampshire town walking into a Target pharmacy and holding the pharmacist at gunpoint… no, wait… not gunpoint… witnesses are reporting a complicated small utility weapon resembling the Rocky Canyon Rescue Hero grappling hook… anyway… she has taken the pharmacist hostage and is said to be screaming something about hand over the estrogen and nobody gets hurt…. Tune in later for the complete story at 11!”